


Splintered wood and broken glass

by Wackenhoernchen



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Injury, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Blood, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, beetlejuice needs love, soft beetlejuice, tw blood, tw broken bones, tw panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wackenhoernchen/pseuds/Wackenhoernchen
Summary: Lydia and Beetlejuice are goofing around until he accidentally takes it too far
Comments: 9
Kudos: 105





	Splintered wood and broken glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm kind new to the fandom, so please excuse me if this isn't 100% canon compliant. Also it's the middle of the night and I have no idea how many spelling errors there are.   
> I like Beej and Lydia as best friends/siblings. But for my taste there's not enough angst here. So there you go. Have fun and I'd appreciate some feedback :D

The old house was quiet. Both human adults were out and the ghostly ones were holed up in the attic, not wanting to be disturbed.

There was a giggle floating through the living room. From behind the couch a mess of dark hair peeked out, softly bobbing in time with the giggles. A head appeared, two eyes observing the room carefully.

„What ’cha lookin’ for?“ A raspy voice asked from the ceiling.

Lydia shrieked delighted when Beetlejuice propelled himself toward her, grabbed her by the waist and threw her across the room into a bean bag, courtesy of Delia. The girl landed soft and laughed until there were tears in her eyes. Even almost technically an adult, nothing gave her more joy than going crazy with her best friend. Who was also her dead husband. But that never mattered to them.

Beetlejuice floated to the ground next to her, a wide smile plastered on his face. „Yeet.“ He said, as if stating that the sky was blue.

Lydia burst out laughing again. „You’re supposed to say it while you throw. Not after.“ She gasped between giggles.

„Eh.“ He dropped next to her into the bean bag, causing her to jump a little. „So, what next? Scaring some neighbors? Messing with the tv channels?“

„BJ, no one’s watching tv anymore.“ Lydia smiled, combing her hair with her fingers.

He paled at that notion. „But- but tv! The single most useless thing to do!“

„Don’t worry. There are even more useless things to do now!“ She explained while sitting up. „Have I seriously not introduced you to streaming?“

He pulled a face. „Babes, you know how I feel about water.“

She rolled her eyes and stood up. „Wait right here. You’ll love it.“ With her back turned she didn’t see Beetlejuice grinning devilish, stalking her every movement while waiting for her to be a few more steps away. Then, quick as an arrow, he extended his arms to grab her and once again throw her across the room, yelling „Yeet!“ while already laughing in joy.

But this time Lydia wasn’t laughing. There was a loud crash and a scream. Usually, this was when Beetlejuice would only start to enjoy himself. But not now. Not when it was Lydia screaming.

In his giddy mood he hadn’t stopped to think where she would land and now she was lying in the midst of what was a cabinet merely seconds before. Among splintered wood and broken plates. Before he completely registered all of that, he was already on his feet, rushing over to her.

The girl was lying on her side, curled up and still screaming. Screaming in pain, screaming in shock. Beetlejuice stopped, hands hovering just above her quivering body. Oh god, this was his fault. He’d hurt her. He’d harmed her. Oh god, this was awful. She was his friend. The only person in this whole damned world he swore he’d never hurt. And yet he’d done it. He’d hurt her. Something inside his hollow chest ached, pulling and burning. He felt frozen. Should he touch her? Would she be scared? Would she ever forgive him? What if she never forgave him? He’d be alone again. Because he’d hurt her.

Beetlejuice suddenly noticed it had gotten quiet again. Lydia had stopped screaming. Now she was clutching her right arm, sobbing into her sleeve.

The silence only lasted a second though, as just when Beetlejuice wanted to reach out, the Maitlands came rushing down the stairs.

„Lydia?“

„Lydia, are you alright?“

They brushed right by him to kneel next to their somewhat daughter. Barbara carefully brushed the hair out of the girls face. It was covered in tears and sot and- oh god. Oh god. There was blood. There was blood on her face. She was bleeding. She could be dying. A head injury could easily be fatal. oh god. He’d killed her. _Good for nothing_ He’d killed the only person he cared about. What would her parents do? They would exorcise him. _Stupid_ He would be stuck in the well for all eternity. Because he’d killed a mortal. His mortal. His best friend.

Everything was too tight, too cramped. He couldn’t breathe. His head swam, his body too heavy to move.

All he could do was stand and watch as Adam cradled Lydia in his arms while Barbara ran off to the kitchen in search for a first aid kit. When she returned, she cleaned the stains off her face, her neck. With so much tenderness. So much love. Love he could never give her. Love she would reject. Because he’d hurt her. And it _hurt_. It hurt so bad to see her like that. Vulnerable and scared and broken. It all became too much and mostly out of instinct Bettlejuice teleported himself to the roof. The air didn’t get better, nothing reached his still lungs. He curled into a ball, similar to how he’d seen Lydia last. How he would have seen her the last time. Curled up and scared. Scared of him.

In the distance he could see flashing lights. They came closer. He felt like he was suffocating, his chest being crushed by and invisible weight.

They wanted to take her away. Take his friend away. A burning anger rose and incinerated every other emotion. He wouldn’t let them take her. If she were to die, she’d die in her own house. With her family. He’d make sure of that, even if it meant him dying so many times more. With a flash he was back in the living room. There were strangers all over the place. Strangers touching Lydia, Strangers carrying Lydia, Strangers taking Lydia away.

Beetlejuice roared in anger, possibly starting a few small fires in close proximity. „You can’t take her!“ He screamed. _Desperate_

Lydia was so small on that stretcher, so frail and weak. She needed him. She needed him to protect her. He couldn’t let them take her away. He was still a demon, God and Satan damn it. Those puny mortals would pay dearly for daring to touch his friend.

Careful hands touched his chest, soft words whispered in his ear „It’s okay. They are helping her. Calm down, BJ. She’s fine. It’s okay.“ Soft words until he was nothing but a sobbing mess kneeling on the floor. The Strangers took Lydia away and he felt colder than he had ever before.

\-----

He could not say how long it had been. How long since Lydia had been taken away. All he had done since then was stare at the mess he’d left behind. A broken cabinet, broken plates, broken glass. And blood. Blood splattered on the wall, dripped on the ground. Lydias blood.

Someone sat down next to him. He didn’t bother to look.

„I just spoke to Charles on the phone.“ Barbara explained carefully. „Lydia’s okay. Some bad bruised, a concussion and a broken arm, but nothing too bad.“

Beetlejuice felt like his gut fell through the floor when he heard the news. She was okay. That’s all that mattered. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what. How could he possibly salvage anything from this wreck? It had all been his fault. He should just leave. It would be better for everyone. Who could possibly benefit from him being here? Maybe his mother had been right. He didn’t deserve to be happy. He didn’t fit in anywhere. He should have never been born.

When he failed to answer or barely even emote, Barbara continued: „They’re coming home in a bit. Would you like to help cleaning up until then?“

Softly he shook his head. What was the point? They already hated him. Barbara stood up with a sigh and joined her husband picking up splintered wood and broken glass. Beetlejuice kept sitting on the couch, even if his brain screamed at him to leave, get away, save yourself from the anger that would soon decent upon him. Any yet he stayed, sitting there with his eyes blank and head full. Maybe he deserved punishment for what he’d done. Not once in his not life had he ever felt remorse and god- he hated it. Almost as much as himself.

\-----

Some time later, he didn’t know how long, the door was unlocked and the Deetz’s stepped inside. Delia first, keys in her hand and bags on her arms. Charles immediately after, carrying his sleeping daughter. She looked absolutely disheveled, her hair a mess, bags and tear streaks under her eyes and her arm in a sling.

Beetlejuice stood up, wanting to run to her. Cradle her, keep her safe, but Charles’ glowering stare made him stop. The demon could easily take her by force and hurt the other man, but he knew hurting Charles meant hurting Lydia and the mere thought of causing her any more pain was too much to bear.

The man looked at him for a moment while his wife closed the door and switched the lights on. It had gotten dark outside. Beetlejuice hadn’t even noticed. It was a silent promise, almost a threat. _This isn’t over. We_ will _talk about this and the consequences._ Then Charles moved again, carrying his daughter up the stairs and into her room. Beetlejuice was left standing in the living room. Alone. So he stood and waited, listening for every little sound. He could hear Charles dressing Lydia for bed and tucking her in. He could hear him walking back to his bedroom. He could hear him talking to Delia and later to Barbara and Adam.

They were deciding his fate. He was sure of it. Obviously, he could turn and run. Save his own not life. But abandoning his family?

After what felt like hours the house fell completely quiet. Everyone had gone to sleep or was resting in silence.

Finally Bettlejuice felt like he could breathe a little again. There were still too many emotions, but they became easier to confront. Lydia. He needed to see Lydia. Truth be told, he could have teleported to her room immediately, but something nagged him to take the human approach. So he crept up the stairs and down the hallway to the familiar door. Just to be safe he knocked- three times. There was no answer, so he assumed she must be asleep. However when he opened the door, Lydia looked at him. She looked dead tired, but smiled a lopsided smile at him. „Hey Beej.“ She croaked. Her eyes seemed glazed over and Bettlejuice recognized the telltale look of painkillers in them.

He approached her bed and sat down next to her. „Hey babes.“ Of all the emotions he had felt, the only thing left right now as guilt. Horrible, gnawing guilt in his stomach. He’d hurt her. How could he ever make this right?

„Check it out. I got a cool cast.“ Lydia mumbled. Her right arm twitched, probably in an attempt to lift it. „No, you cannot draw dicks on it.“ She snorted. Some drool dripped down her chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve.

Beetlejuice found himself speechless. What could he possibly say? „I’m sorry.“ The words escaped his mouth before he could react.

Lydia looked stunned. „I know I’m high as balls right now, but did you just apologize?“

That actually made him smirk. „Yeah babes, I did. ‚Cause I fucked up big time and I- I feel bad. It’s an awful feeling.“

„Welcome to human 101. Emotions suck.“ She tried to shrug, but only managed to pull her neck in. God, how many painkillers did they give her?

„Dad’s really pissed. Promised me not to kill you though.“ She reached out with her good hand and pat his leg. „‚m tired. Sleepy time.“ She concluded.

„Go to sleep, babes.“ Beetlejuice smiled at her to see she was already asleep. Maybe- just maybe it was okay. Humans fucked up all the time too, didn’t they? Maybe it was okay that he fucked up. Maybe he deserved forgiveness. Maybe he deserved more than he was willing to admit to himself.

Gently he pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. „I’ll be right here. I promise.“ A promise he kept through the night and into the next day. A new day with new chances and a Bettlejuice that, despite his still heart, had grown just a tiny bit more human and accepting of himself.


End file.
